


American Dream

by hubdub15



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Burlesque Club, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arthur Morgan Does Not Have Tuberculosis, Established Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2019-11-27 15:56:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18196268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hubdub15/pseuds/hubdub15
Summary: Isabelle knew she could never have what she truly wanted. It was all just a dream to distract herself from what her life had become, but she still kept a small sliver of hope that it would change. But with a new influence in her life, she begins to wonder just what it might take to finally escape.





	1. Desserts

“You were amazing tonight.”

  
Isabelle smiled at the passing compliment and continued back to her dressing room, her heart still pounding. The routine had been more physically demanding than usual, but it had paid off, from the amount of money she noticed being deposited into the black gamblers of the circulating waitresses. The final flourish of the music was still ringing in her ears, accompanied by the soft jazz from the band in the back corner of the club. She could barely see the crowd with the spotlights in her eyes when she was on stage, but she could feel him.

  
He had come in at least twice a week for the past five years, whenever she performed, and always whenever she was available for reservation. He was one of her regulars, and she knew she shouldn’t have favorites because it complicated things, but he was by far the best client she had.

  
She finally made it into her dressing room, closing the door softly behind her and letting out a deep sigh. She needed water and to get out of her restricting costume, desperately. A knock on the door interrupted her post-performance rituals just as she was struggling to undo her zipper.

  
“Come in!” The door opened and her closest work friend, Clara, stepped in with a large smile and an even larger box.

  
“We’re going to need a mop just to clean up all the drool from the floor after that performance.” She joked, closing the door behind her. She set the box down on Isabelle’s vanity and walked over to undo her costume. “One guy didn’t even notice when Laurie spilled a drink on him.”

  
“Did Elise comp him?”

Clara waved a dismissive hand. “She offered him dessert, but he said no and something about how his wife would know.” She followed Isabelle to her vanity once she had sat down, helping her take the bobby pins out of her hair and brush out the hairspray. “That box is for you, by the way. Cowboy was back tonight.”

Isabelle could feel her stomach curling in anticipating just at the mention of her client. “Was he?” She asked, trying not to sound too excited.

“Yep. Didn’t take his eyes off you the entire time. He ordered a two-course in Room Three after you left the stage, and he said that was for you to wear.” She gestured to the box taking up most of the table space. “Is there something going on between you two?”

“No. He’s just a regular.” Isabelle couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed at that, or whenever she thought about the situation. When she allowed herself, she would think about what it would be like if they were to go out on an actual date, instead of only seeing each other in the club. She knew that would never happen, though. They had a strictly professional relationship, and there was a policy against dating clients. She had a good job, she didn’t want to throw it away over one guy, no matter how she might feel about him.

“Well, he’s waiting in Room Three when you’re ready.” Clara left, closing the door quietly behind her.

Isabelle looked to the box on the counter, wondering what he could have brought tonight. He liked to bring her dresses from time to time and see her wear them after her performance, during their two-course. She had mentioned off-handedly during one of their reservations that she was uncomfortable in the uniforms available to her when she was at the club, preferring dresses looser than the bodycon dresses Elise mandated in the club. The next reservation she had with him, he had brought her a long, flowing dress that was one of the most comfortable things she had ever worn for her to wear, though it didn’t stay on for long.

She took off most of her makeup and piled her hair on top of her head before turning to the box, opening the lid carefully to lift the dress from the box. It was longer, skimming just past her knees and tied carefully at the waist, covered with red flowers on a creme background. She quickly put it on and checked herself one more time before leaving her dressing room and going up the back stairs to the second floor, where the private rooms were located. Her stomach was doing its best impression of an Olympic gymnast when she reached the door of Room 3, knocking quietly as an announcement before entering.

Arthur Morgan stood as soon as she came into the room, straightening his suit jacket and removing his hat. She smiled at him and walked forward, giving him a light kiss on the cheek before moving over to her side of the table. He followed, pulling out the chair for her and letting her sit down before moving to sit down on his side of the table.

“You look…” He started, gesturing wordlessly to her and clearing his throat.

“Stop it.” She told him, looking towards the food already laid out on the table. Clients could request whatever they wanted for their reservation, down to the food or what they were craving from their host or hostess that night. Arthur’s usual request, though it changed from time to time with his mood, was just “domestic”. They hadn’t known what he meant at first, but Elise was always good at guessing what exactly the clients meant with their requests. She had nixed the usual food for the two-course, oysters, lobster, and other aphrodisiacs for more homestyle fare, which changed each time Arthur reserved time with Isabelle. Tonight, it was chicken breast with potatoes, and Isabelle already knew if she was going to make it through dessert without getting sick, she needed to eat lightly.

She stood, walking back over to Arthur and putting a hand on his shoulder when he started to stand again, pushing him gently back in his seat. “Let me.” She took his plate and served him a little bit of everything before setting his back in front of him, running a gentle hand through his hair with a smile before sitting back down at her place.

“You looked beautiful tonight.” Arthur commented. “Do you need to—

“No.” She responded, already knowing what he was going to say. She noticed he wasn’t eating anything, instead staring at her. “Are you not hungry?”

“No. Figured you’d need to eat, after performing.”

“You’re a busy man too, you need to eat.” She noted. “If you don’t eat, I’m not eating.”

Arthur stared at her for a moment before focusing on the food in front of him, beginning to eat dutifully. Isabelle smiled and continued her own meal.

“How is Copper?” Isabelle asked, breaking the silence between them halfway through their meal.

A small smile appeared on Arthur’s face at the mention of his beloved pet. “Damn dog. He got into the trash and ate almost all of it before I stopped him. I had to take him to the vet.”

“Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he just threw up everything in the back of my car and was completely fine.” He paused. “Sorry, that’s a little gross.”

“No, it’s fine. I like when you talk about Copper. I wish I could meet him.” Isabelle smiled.

“You could.”

“Arthur.” Isabelle shook her head. It wasn’t the first time Arthur had brought up possibly seeing her outside of the club, but she always made sure to end it before they both fell into a fantasy.

“Just seeing me outside of here won’t get you fired. Elise doesn’t have to know.” He noted.

“Elise has people everywhere, she would know. I can’t lose my job.”

“I could take care of it. There’s room in the gang, you could work with us. We make good money.”

Isabelle sighed and stood, walking over to him as he pushed his chair back from the table. She settled on his lap with her legs in between his, wrapping an arm around his neck with one arm and resting her other hand against his face. His arm came around her and he rested his large hand on her thigh, squeezing it gently. His eyes closed slightly as she rubbed her thumb along his cheekbone, feeling the stubble along his jaw under her palm. She pushed some hair back from his face and smiled softly when he opened his eyes and focused on her.  
“We could get a place by the ocean, like you want. Away from the world.” He whispered.

She leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, resting hers against it as she looked into his eyes.

“It’s a pretty dream.” She whispered.

She had never told anyone, never dared to even speak it aloud, and kept herself from thinking about it, but she knew deep down that she had fallen for Arthur Morgan. She was so good at controlling herself with her clients with carefully constructed walls, preventing them from knowing anything true about her. But as soon as she met Arthur, she knew he was different. He treated her differently than the rest of her clients, not just using her as a way to fulfill their own sexual fantasies. She thought it was just a game at first, but he really did care about her. He wanted her to be happy, had told her several times, has offered her the world. And each time she refused him, he wouldn’t turn away.

Arthur leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, wrapping his arms tighter around her to pull her in closer. Isabelle whimpered slightly and tangled her fingers in his hair. She slanted her mouth across his and shifted in his lap so she was straddling him. She could already feel him pressing against the front of his jeans, which made her smile slightly. Reaching her hands between them, she began unbuttoning the front of his shirt, rubbing her hands along his chest while he let out a groan. Arthur leaned back and slowly undid the knot at Isabelle’s waist, pushing the dress open and off her shoulders until it was puddled on the floor behind her to leave her completely naked.

“Shit.” He breathed, pausing for a moment before bending down and latching onto one of her breasts, rolling the nipple around on his tongue as his free hand pushed on her lower back to push him closer to her. Isabelle breathed out a sigh and arched her back further into his touch.

“I guess you’re ready for dessert?” She asked breathlessly.

* * *

“I love you, Isabelle.”

Isabelle continued to run her fingers through his hair, sweat cooling on their skin as they reclined on the bed build in to the back wall and tried to catch their breath after their third round. She squeezed her eyes shut to prevent the tears from falling when he kissed her collarbone tenderly and rested his head back on her shoulder. No matter how many times he told her, it would never happen. It was the reality she had to live with, to remember for the both of them, even if Arthur thought that somehow it would magically change and they could be together. Her life wasn’t as simple as his, with the gang. There were rules to follow, and consequences if they were broken. But at least for a few hours when she was with him, she could forget and share his dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! This is actually an AU of a story I'm working on for the RDR world, though I'm not sure if I'll ever post it. I'll be doing a few flashback chapters in this story for context, i.e. how Arthur and Isabelle met, what exactly is the club she works at, etc. If you liked it, let me know by leaving a comment!


	2. House Rules

_“You’ll be fine. Quit worrying.” Abigail smiled, straightening the neckline of Isabelle’s top. “Elise likes you. And you’ve already been with clients before, they apparently gave you rave reviews.”_

_Isabelle failed to join in her laughter. “Elise said these clients are important, regulars. It’s the next step up. What if I mess up and Elise dismisses me? Abigail, I don’t have the money—_

_“Stop it.” She cut her off with a finger to the lips. “You’re going to do great. I know the man you’re serving tonight, he’s easy. It’ll be a walk in the park for you.”_

_“If you say so.”_

_The door to the dressing room opened and Elise poked her head in. “Are you two ready? Gloria and Clara are already with two of the clients, the rest of the group is waiting.”_

_“Yes, we are.” Abigail took Isabelle’s hand and pulled her out of the room, leading her into the dimly-lit club until they finally arrived at the table. Isabelle kept her eyes down, playing the demure counterpart to Abigail’s coquettishness, but in reality she was terrified and couldn’t meet their eyes. Debts kept going through her mind, and how she was going to pay them if she lost her job. No matter if her client was as easy as Abigail said._

_“Didn’t I tell you, Isabelle? Mr. Morgan’s quite a looker.” Abigail’s comments broke Isabelle from her thoughts to look up at the table to meet a pair of piercing blue eyes._

_She could see a little bit of brown hair curling slightly around his ears and the nape of his neck, peeking out beneath a worn cowboy hat. Isabelle managed a small smile at him and nodded. His clothing didn’t match the rest of those at the table, opting for dark jeans and a blue-button down covered with a tan leather jacket instead of some varying degree of a suit._

_“But I think Mr. Marston might give him a run for his money.” Abigail gave her arm a squeeze and grabbed John Marston’s hand. She smiled one last time over her shoulder at Isabelle before disappearing towards the stairs._

_“You going, Dutch?” His voice was gravely with deep with a slight Texas accent. Some of the girls had already nicknamed him Cowboy, and she could see why._

_“You boys go have your fun. I’ll wait here.”_

_“Oh, we can’t have you missing out, Mr. van der Linde.” Elise came up behind him, resting her hands on his arms and drawing him up. “Follow me.”_

_Dutch smiled at Arthur and took Elise’s hand to lead him up the stairs. She snapped at Willow as she passed, who got up and followed the pair to the back stairs. Arthur and Isabelle were now alone, and she thought she was going to throw up._

_“If you’ll follow me, Mr. Morgan.” Isabelle said smoothly, trying not to give off any sense of nervousness as she started towards the stairs, feeling him following behind her. Opening the door to Room 5, she waited for him to enter before closing the door behind them. Arthur stood in the center of the room with his hands in his pockets while Isabelle moved towards the small bar in the corner of the room._

_“Would you like something to drink, Mr. Morgan?”_

_“Arthur.” He told her. “And no, I’m fine.”_

_Isabelle returned the whisky bottle to the bar shakily. “I didn’t see much on your preference sheet.”_

_“That’s ‘cause I don’t have any requests. I didn’t think this needed anything special.”He gestured between the two of them._

_Isabelle managed a smile at him and walked forward to stand in front of him. She brought her hands up to the back of her neck, pressing them against his skin to keep them from trembling when she pressed her lips against his. She felt him stiffen slightly under her touch and her stomach immediately dropped._

_“You okay?” He asked when she broke away to breathe._

_“No, I’m fine.” Isabelle said quickly. When she went to kiss him again, he pulled back and frowned._

_“This your first time?”_

_“It can if you want it to be.”_

_His frown didn’t go away as he looked at her. He took her by her upper arms and sat her down on the end of the bed before taking one of the chairs from the table and moving it to sit in front of her._

_“What are you doing?” Isabelle couldn’t help but ask._

_“We ain’t doing anything if you’re looking like you’re going to bolt any second.”_

_“Does that matter?”_

_“To me. Why you so upset?”_

_“I’m not.”_

_“Sure. You lie often?”_

_Isabelle scooted further to the edge of the bed. “Mr. van der Linde is an important patron. I don’t want one of his associates to be disappointed with our service.”_

_“Is that why you’re upset? Because of Dutch?”_

_“I’m not upset.” Isabelle reiterated. “Just nervous.”_

_“He make you nervous?”_

_“The pressure makes me nervous.” She clarified.“I’m not exactly seasoned. I’ve never served anyone this important.”_

_She didn’t know why she was telling him all of this. Elise discouraged actually forming connections with clients, or talking too much off of the predetermined script. Most of the time, the clients didn’t want to talk, so she didn’t have to watch what she said. But she felt this man wouldn’t care if she opened up to him a little, and wouldn’t tell if she did. He didn’t seem the type to complain just because his reservation talked a little too much, as long as he got what he wanted._

_“I’m not important.”_

_“Everyone else says otherwise. You’re Mr. van der Linde’s right hand man.”_

_He laughed quietly. reaching into his pants pocket and smoothly extracting a cigarette from a slim metal case to light it. “You mind?” He asked._

_“Usually people wait until after to light up.” That time, he actually laughed, and Isabelle found herself smiling along with him and wishing he would do it again._

_“Call it anticipatory.” He told her and took a deep drag._

_Isabelle could feel the knot of worry loosen in her stomach and twist into something else as she stood, walking slowly over to him with his eyes fixed on her until his head was tilted back to look at while she stood above him. She took the cigarette gingerly from his mouth and put it in her own, breathing deeply. She leaned over him to stub out the cigarette in the ashtray behind him, making sure when she leant over her breasts were directly in front of his face, so close she could feel his hot breath on her skin. She pulled back just enough to look into his eyes and saw a familiar hunger, and this time, she was ready for it._

_“So, Mr. Morgan,” Isabelle started, taking off his hat and pushing his hair back from his forehead with her fingers. “I’m feeling much better. Where do you want me?”_

* * *

 

Isabelle could already hear Elise yelling at some of the newer recruits before she walked into L'Apogée. It had been well before 7 AM when Elise had called her, requesting she come down to the club so they could talk over operations and what was coming up next. Elise entrusted a lot to her, but that was only because she knew Isabelle could be trusted. She gave a wave to Heidi and Clara sitting and chatting near coat check before heading into the club room to find out what all the noise was about. 

“Don’t you dare think that just because you’re pretty and the patrons like you that I won’t kick you out on your ass if you break my rules! You see Karen Jones around last night? No! I fired her for sleeping with a patron, and I’ll do the same to you if you get any big ideas about rising above your station before you’re ready. Now let’s do this _again_!” 

Isabelle sat in the back of the room and watched as the recruits went through their group routine. It wasn’t hard by any means, but with so many people on stage at the same time, the logistics could get tricky. To be as impressive as it could be, it needed to be choreographed to the teeth. 

Elise seemed to have felt eyes on her and turned, seeing Isabelle at the back of the house. She nodded and turned back to the girls to leave them with a final warning to keep practicing before walking to Isabelle’s table.

“Was that true? What you said about Karen?” Isabelle asked when Elise sat down. 

“Damn right it was true. I caught her fucking that Sean Macguire in the stock room. She was never very bright, then again, she was drunk off her ass when I caught them.” Elise snapped her fingers and a gin and tonic magically appeared in front of her, delivered by a terrified assistant. 

“Has she moved out?”

“She’s being moved out as we speak. I don’t know where she’s going to go, and I don’t care. She should have thought of that before she fucked him.” Elise took a long drink and let out a hiss. “Keep your legs _up_ when you kick, I can see you slacking!”

Isabelle stayed silent while Elise continued to yell at the dancers, finally gaining her attention after five minutes. “I got your voicemail, that you wanted to speak with me.”

“Right.” Elise snapped her fingers again and the same assistant placed the scheduling binder in front of her. “We have some new hires coming in later today for their final fittings and walkthrough. Are you free?” 

“Yes.” Isabelle answered, unable to come up with an excuse for not doing it. She had led orientation several times before, there was no reason for her to say no. Elise knew she wasn’t doing anything later today. 

“Good. Next, Arthur Morgan. Is he being well taken care of?”

“Yes.” Isabelle nodded, the ache between her thighs growing more pronounced at his mention. They had been rough the night before last, and she was still sore. She could tell by the look on Arthur’s face and how he had kissed her that he didn’t want to talk about what was bothering him; he just wanted to fuck her until she forgot her own name, and that’s exactly what he did, in every position imaginable. Even when she rode him, he still drove into her from below, his hands in a bruising grip on her hips, thighs, whatever he could hold onto. She had been thoroughly worn out by the time he left, giving her a tender kiss on her forehead before disappearing out the door. 

“Excellent. Dutch van der Linde and his gang bring in a lot of money, I would hate to have his second-in-command report back and turn him away. We need his patronage. Of course, we might need to start limiting your time with him, though. There have been several clients who have requested you and are willing to pay extra. You especially can’t miss out on opportunities like that.” She notice Isabelle shift uncomfortably. “Are you sore?”

“A little.” Isabelle didn’t mention that the welts on her hip was still hurting as well, and how Arthur had seen it. That would just earn her another punishment. 

“Go see the doctor if it’s not better by tomorrow. I can’t have you out sick.” She ordered. 

“Yes, Elise.” 

“You also need to get your implant replaced. Tell him that when you go too. And take Renee with you. I’m starting her training next week. Set her up at the salon and spa to get her ready. I also need you to be floor manager tonight. We have another group who wants membership, I’m meeting with them to deliver the contracts and NDAs.”

“But—

Elise cut her off with a raise eyebrow. “Will that be a problem?”

Isabelle saw the flash of anger pass across her face at even the thought of refusal, so she shook her head. “No, Elise.” 

“Good. Wear the Akris dress and standard heels. If there are any complications, and I expect there to be none, call me.” Elise snapped the binder shut and dropped it into her assistant’s arms. “We’re done here.”

Isabelle stood and nodded, completely ignored as Elise turned her back on her and returned to the stage to direct practice. Isabelle didn’t see the point in going back to the apartment when she would just have to come back in a few hours to get ready, so she disappeared back into her dressing room to wait out until the club officially opened for the night. 

Just before the club was supposed to open, Isabelle walked down the row of waitresses, looking over their outfits one more time before sending them out on the floor. She stopped in front of one of the newer girls, looking her up and down before reaching down into the front of her dress to pull out the bra inserts she had put in and throwing them in a chair behind her. 

“Did you forget the rulebook?” 

“It said—

“It says you can use push up bras, duct tape, whatever you want to enhance your _natural_ breasts. Not stuffing chicken cutlets in your bra so they can fall into a client’s lap.” Isabelle cut her off. “If you want a boob job, take it up with Elise.” She took a step back and nodded. “You all look good. Remember, polite, don’t get too involved. Make them feel comfortable. Now go.” 

She watched as the waitresses filed out, trays in hand to stand by the bar and greet the guests as they entered. Orientation earlier today had gone smoothly. None of the girls had gained or lost too much weight, which meant none of them had to be dismissed before they even started. Elise would be pleased. Looking in the mirror one last time to check her hair and dress, Isabelle walked out onto the floor to oversee operations. Everything already seemed to be running smoothly, with the guests either already seated or being seated while the band played soft jazz over the quiet din of conversation. Isabelle breathed a silent sigh of relief that nothing was wrong, yet. She was sure something would happen. It was a Friday night, something always happened. 

Isabelle leaned against the bar and surveyed the floor. All the tables in the pit were filled, as well as most of the booths around the sides. Even if someone caused trouble, it would still be a good night for tips and reservations. She watched as Heidi approached with an empty tray, standing beside her to whisper in her ear covertly.

“Dutch van der Linde and some of his associates are at their normal table, they’re wanting to speak with the manager about a reservation.” Heidi murmured before disappearing behind the bar. Isabelle sighed and secured a polite smile on her face and immediately singled Dutch van der Linde out of the crowded room. He was at his normal table, dead center in the pit, with the best view of the stage, the most popular, and also the most expensive. He never shied away from flaunting just how much money he had. 

Isabelle walked to the table and stood opposite Dutch to get his attention. “Mr. van der Linde, how wonderful you could join us tonight.” She noticed Charles and John were with him, along with another blond man she had never seen before. “Is everything to your liking?”

“Everything is perfect, as always, Miss Isabelle. I was hoping to speak to Elise.”

“Elise is not in tonight. She sends her regards. I can help fulfill any requests you have.”

“ _Any_ requests?” The blonde man asked. Isabelle finally focused on him. He had a horrible handlebar mustache that hung too far past his top lip for her liking, accompanied by ahuge potbelly which didn’t match the rest of his wiry frame. It was guests like him that definitely made her reconsider how much she really needed this job. 

“Within reason of the services we provide, and house rules we uphold.” Isabelle responded cordially. “Heidi mentioned that you wanted to make a reservation tonight, Mr. van der Linde.”

“How much for you?” The potbellied one cut off Dutch before he could speak. It took everything she had not to squirm as his eyes raked over her body. 

“Unfortunately, sir, I’m not available for reservation tonight.” 

“Everything has a price. What will it take you to open up those legs?”

Isabelle glared at him and turned back to Dutch. “Mr. van der Linde, we appreciate your patronage at our establishment, but if your associate cannot filter his comments, he will be asked to leave.” 

“Calm down, Micah, there are plenty of girls to choose from.” Dutch ordered. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t cause any more trouble, Miss Isabelle.”

“Thank you, Mr. van der Linde. Would you like me to bring out a menu for the table?”

“No, I think it’ll be just dessert for Micah and I, if there are openings.”

“For you, there are always openings.” Isabelle snapped her fingers and waited until Heidi came up beside her. “Tell Rachel and Claire to get ready and go to Rooms 5 and 6, respectively. We have some clients who need attention.” She murmured in her ear. Heidi pulled back and nodded, leaving to the dressing rooms. “Is there anything else I can assist you with, gentlemen?” 

“I believe that’s it. We can show ourselves up. Come on, Micah.” 

The pair left the table, leaving Charles, who was never able to meet her eyes, and John, who wouldn’t stop staring. She narrowed her eyes at him and walked back to the bar to check on the orders there. 

“Wow, you’re subtle.” She muttered when John leaned up against the bar fully facing her. 

“Abigail asked me to talk to again about coming to Jack’s party.”

“John, I told you, no.” Isabelle hissed back. “I miss her, I do, but I can’t risk it, and she knows that. I’m not in the market for another bruised kidney.” She pulled a card from her dress and handed it to him. “Give this to her. There’s a little something for Jack in there as well.”

He took it and tucked it inside his jacket. “How close are you to paying off your debt?”

“That’s none of your business.” Isabelle frowned. “And if I find out you told Arthur, I’ll kill you.”

“You haven’t told him? Thought you two had something going on.”

“Even if we did, he doesn’t need to know about it.” Isabelle reasserted. “Stay out of my business.”

“Isabelle.” Clara walked as quickly as she could without drawing attention, coming up alongside. “We have a problem. Gloria is currently puking her guts out in the bathroom, and she’s supposed to have a reservation right now. We don’t have anyone to cover her.” 

“I’ll handle it.” Isabelle sighed, waving John off to return to his table. “Send her home, then watch the floor for me until I get back. Do you have the preference sheet?” 

Clara handed it over to her. “It’s Colm O’Driscoll. He doesn’t want anything special tonight, just dessert. I guess he just needs to get off.”

“Joy.” Isabelle frowned. None of her reservations with clients were ever enjoyable or brought her even close to an orgasm, save Arthur, but it was even worse when all they wanted to do was plow you until it felt like your brain was rattling inside your skull. To make matters worse, Colm O’Driscoll was one of her least-favorite clients. He was an arrogant blowhard who seemed to think he was God’s gift to humanity, and loved to talk about himself. She couldn’t stand him. Luckily, she apparently was not his preferred choice, so she didn’t have to serve him very often. 

“I can take it, if you want.”

“No, I need someone experienced out on the floor, and you’ve never dealt with Colm. I’ll be right back.” Isabelle handed the preference sheet back to her and started towards the back stairwell to Room 2. She detached herself and went into work-mode, focused solely on finishing the task at hand without any emotional reactions as she walked into the room with a pasted smile on her face. 

“Good evening, Mr. O’Driscoll.” Isabelle announced her presence before closing the doorto the room. “How are you this evening?”

Colm turned around, a glass of whiskey already in his hand. “I was expecting that exotic girl.” He rasped, downing the rest of his drink and setting the empty glass on a side table. 

Isabelle chose to ignore his open bigotry, for now. “There was an unforeseen situation and Gloria is not available. I’ll be your hostess tonight. Would you like me to refresh your drink?”

“Gin, neat. Surely you can’t fuck that up.”

Isabelle frowned and gripped the edge of the bar tighter, taking a moment to breathe before pasting a smile back on her face to turn back to him with his drink. “I’d be surprised if anyone could ruin pouring a drink.” 

He took it from her hand roughly and downed it in one breath. “Take off your clothes.” 

Isabelle didn’t flinch as she began to remove her dress, making sure she did it slowly as he watched her intently. When she finally had all her clothes off, Colm grabbed her roughly and kissed her, shoving his tongue into her mouth as he groped her breasts and bottom. Isabelle’s stomach was turning but pretended to be as interested as he was in their act. 

“I bet Dutch’s boy doesn’t treat you like this.” Colm muttered, sucking on her neck. 

_Better than you ever could_. Isabelle immediately thought then reflected on what he said. It was rare if clients knew exactly who each girl served, and even more strange that he would even mention Arthur at all. 

“Bet he tells you all sorts of things when your cunt loosens his tongue a bit.” He continued. He pulled back, and it was then Isabelle recognized a dangerous glint in his eye. Before she could pull away, Colm’s hand shot out and wrapped around her neck, anchoring her to her place.

“Now,” Colm whispered, his fingers squeezing tighter around Isabelle’s neck. “tell me what Dutch’s gang is planning.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! I know there's still a lot of ambiguity, but I hope I gave a little more insight into how the club works. If you have any questions/comments on what might still be confusing you, just leave a comment and I'll try to incorporate it into later chapters. Until next time!~


	3. A Debt

Something was off in the club and Arthur could feel it as soon as he stepped in the building. He noticed several of the girls look at him and quickly look away to avoid his eyes. Dutch had brought that rat Micah to the club for the first time the night before, it wouldn’t surprise him if he had pulled some stunt that soured the opinion of all the girls here towards the gang. He handed his coat to Heidi absent-mindedly and walked to his normal booth at the edge of the club on the upper-tier of the floor, taking off his hat and sitting down. Clara appeared not a moment later and set his usual whisky in front of him. 

“Good evening, Mr. Morgan. How are you?” She asked smoothly, a sultry lit to her voice which was common among all the waitresses. 

“I’m fine. Where’s Isabelle?” Arthur asked, setting his hat down on the table next to him. 

“She’s not in tonight, she wasn’t feeling well.” Clara wouldn’t meet his eyes as she set his usual whisky down in front of him. “She should be back in a few days.”

“She never takes a day off.” Arthur remembered the time she had come to the club sick, so high off of NyQuil and Tylenol that as soon as she stepped in the room for their reservation, Arthur had forced her to get in the bed and sleep it off. She was too weak to protest and fell asleep immediately when her head hit the pillow. It gave him the opportunity to take care of her for once, without her refusing him. Why someone would go to work when they looked and felt like death, Arthur didn’t know, but it made him even more suspicious of exactly why a person like Isabelle was working in a club like L’Apogée. 

“Well, I guess she just decided today was the right day for it.” Clara responded. “Let me know if you need anything else.” 

Before she could leave, Arthur reached out and grabbed her wrist to prevent her from running off. Clara turned back to him and frowned, trying to break out of his grasp futilely. “I know you’re keeping something from me. And if I go back to Dutch and tell him Elise’s girls have taken up lying to us, I’m not sure he would be too pleased.”

“Fuck you, Morgan, you know I can’t say anything.” Clara hissed. 

“Where is Isabelle?” He demanded again. 

Clara looked around the club. Everyone’s attention was on the stage at the performance going on, no one would notice if a waitress spent just a little more time with a guest after delivering a drink. She leaned down to whisper in his ear, not uncommon for the waitresses to do with the clients, but her tone of voice was far different from the sweet nothings usually delivered along with cold drinks. Arthur made sure to keep his eyes focused ahead and a stoic look on his face, to not give away the true nature of their conversation.

“She had a rough client last night, hit her pretty bad. Elise won’t let her come back until at least the bruises on her face can be covered up.” 

“And the client?” Arthur asked lowly.

“Elise banned him and his associates from the club. Non-consenting violence isn’t tolerated.” Clara straightened and gave him a sweet smile. “I’ll let her know you stopped by.”

Arthur didn’t let go of her wrist. “Who?”

Clara shook her head. “I can’t tell you. Elise doesn’t want us to give out the names of other clients. She knows multiple gangs visit here and doesn’t want to be the start of another gang war.”

“Then I need Isabelle’s address.” 

“I’m sorry, I can’t—

Arthur stood, grabbing his hat and dropping a hundred on the table for a tip and his untouched whisky. 

“You tell Elise if I find out she had something to do with how bad off Isabelle is, she’ll have a lot bigger problem than just a few lost patrons.” Arthur could still see the welts on Isabelle’s hips, bright red against her pale skin. She had played it off like an accident, since she couldn’t say she had received them from another client. Arthur made sure he was the only client she had to service, after she had admitted another reservation had gotten a little too rough with her and went outside of the club’s set parameters. It didn’t matter that it cost him an arm and a leg, she shouldn’t have to deal with the normal perverts that came in. 

“You know, you’re one of those perverts, paying to have sex with a stranger.” She had responded when he told her why he always took her reservations. 

“If you want, I can send Uncle up here in my place.” 

“No, I’d rather keep you. You’re my favorite pervert.” The laugh she let out when he bent down with a growl and playfully bit her neck warmed him from the inside as the memory passed through his mind, distracting him momentarily from his stormy thoughts. No, those welts couldn’t have come from another client. They were deliberate, and it wasn’t the first time he had seen mysterious marks on her body. It only made him want to kill Elise even more. 

Arthur drove back to the gang’s estate, waving once at the guards as the gates opened to the winding drive which led him up to Dutch’s mansion. He parked his car right in front and left it idling while he went inside. 

“Abigail!” Arthur yelled, slamming the front door behind him and walking through the house towards the living room. “Abigail!”

“What is it?” Abigail’s head popped up from over the back of the sofa to look at him. “And keep it down, Jack’s already asleep.” She was wearing her pajamas, her hair pulled back in a messy bun at the nape of her neck. It was unusual for her to be up this late. The dark circles said it all. _Waiting for John. Again_. 

“Where does Isabelle live?” Arthur didn’t wait to exchange pleasantries. If anyone knew where Isabelle was, Abigail would. They used to be thick as thieves back when Abigail used to work with her at L’Apogée, before she had gotten pregnant and Elise had kicked her out with nothing. Arthur remembered more mysterious injuries on Isabelle after he found out she had helped Abigail gather some of her things from her old apartment. Another punishment, for helping one of the club’s pariahs. 

Shock replaced her look of indifference. “What?”

“Isabelle Ward. Where does she live?” 

“Why do you need—

“I know you know where she is, and I need to see her. Where is she?”

Abigail finally regained composure and cleared her throat. “She might not even live there anymore, Arthur.”

“I don’t care. Tell me.” 

“I can’t.” 

“Why the hell not?”

“If I tell you, and Elise finds out…” Abigail paused. “It’s not even Isabelle’s apartment. Elise owns it. And she lives with Clara, who might tell Elise if you go over to her apartment with guns blazing. You’ll get her in trouble.”

“To hell with Elise. You think she can touch you, here, of all places? Under Dutch’s protection?” Arthur gestured with both arms to the cavernous house. “You seen that gate?”

Abigail looked at her hands, fidgeting while she thought. _What the hell has this woman done to these girls?_

“She lives in El Segundo, near the airport. 215 West Palm, Apartment 104. ”

* * *

 

“Shit.” Isabelle hissed, gently dabbing over the open wounds on her face. It had been two days since she was attacked by her client, but her wounds had only gotten worse. From the way he had been hitting her, she was surprised she hadn’t broken anything. The doctor had done a thorough examination and said everything was fine, despite cosmetic damage. She knew nothing about medicine, so she had to take his word for it. Of course, that had been before Elise found out. Now it hurt to breathe.

A loud knocking on her door made her almost jump out of skin. She didn’t have any appointments for anyone to come to her apartment, and even if she did, it was too late at night for a repairman to show up.Elise had a key, so she could come and go as she pleased to check in without ever knocking. She walked to the door and looked through the peephole, and her breath caught in her throat. _Arthur_. How did he find out where she lived?

She stood on one side of the door but didn’t open it. “Arthur, go away.” 

“I ain’t leaving until you let me in.”

“You’re going to get me in trouble. Go away.” She wondered if Elise had one of her men watching the apartment tonight, or if she thought there was no way Isabelle would attempt anything after the beating she had gotten. 

“For the love of…” She heard him grumble. She stood back up on the toes to look through the peephole and saw he had gotten out his lock pick and was working on her deadbolt. Isabelle rushed to the dining room, ignoring the pain stabbing in her leg and side and grabbed one of the chairs to prop up underneath the knob. Before she could get back to the front door, it swung open and Arthur stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. 

“Can you be any more bull-headed?” Isabelle demanded. “I told you to leave.” 

Arthur didn’t seem to hear her as he stared, obviously taking in the injuries on her face. Elise usually didn’t target the face, but Colm O’Driscoll and his enforcers were significant and frequent patrons, and she placed blame on Isabelle for losing such important clients. Though how it was Isabelle’s fault Colm almost strangled her, she didn’t know. 

He moved forward until there was barely any space between them. His hands came up cautiously and ghosted over the mottled bruise on the side of her face which spread into her black eye, almost swollen shut. Isabelle hissed when he accidentally touched the bruise as his thumb ghosted across her split bottom lip. 

“Sorry.” He murmured, his hands now pushing aside the collar of her sweatshirt to look more closely at the hand-shaped bruises on her neck. Every touch he made was feather light, trying his hardest not to hurt her. She could have cried right there from the tenderness of his actions. “What happened?” He asked. 

“I had a client get rough last night, it’s no big deal.” She told him. “I’ll be fine in a few days. She inhaled sharply as his hands connected with her sides. He immediately stepped back, his hands hovering in the air between them. “Ribs.” She explained. 

“Is there any part of you that’s not hit?” 

“It’s really not that bad.” She avoided his question, turning around and walking back into the living room. “You can’t stay here, Arthur.”

“Like hell I can’t. You can barely walk.” He gestured to her limping as she walked to the couch and carefully sat down. He followed and sat on the coffee table in front of her, taking one of her hands. “Elise do this?”

She avoided his question again by staying silent. “I really need you to leave, Arthur. Clara is going to be back any minute, and if she sees you here, she’s obligated to tell Elise.”

“You talk about her like she’s some goddamn all-seeing deity. Why do you put up with this?” Arthur demanded. “This ain’t the first time I’ve seen you with injuries like this, and I know a client couldn’t have done all this. You like having this happen to you?” He gestured to the injuries on her face.

“This is none of your business, Arthur. Stay out of it.” Isabelle frowned. She was beginning to get pissed off. “This is the third time I’ve told you to leave. I don’t want you involved in this. I can take care of myself.” 

“Yeah, because this is taking care of yourself? What the hell is wrong, Isabelle?” He stood. She could see that now he was pissed off. “You get treated like shit there. These injuries are so common, I’m not even surprised anymore if I see a bruise on you anymore. You’ve told me before you wanted to get out of that club, but every time I try to give you an out, you say you can’t leave that goddamn job. I tell you I’ll take care of you, and you still tell me no.” He turned away from her and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “Is it me?”

“What?” Isabelle’s frustration with his tirade dissipated at his question.

“Do you keep refusing because you don’t want to be tied to me?” 

“Arthur, no. It’s not that.” Isabelle stood as quickly as she could and wrapped her arms around him, resting her hands on his chest. 

“I know I’m not a respectable man. I run with a gang. I don’t make an honest living. But I promise I am and will be committed to you. I’d do anything to make you happy.” She heard him take a shaky breath. “Just tell me if you don’t want me anymore.” 

“Stop it.”Isabelle ordered, turning him around to face her. “It’s not that at all. I do want you, it’s just…”

“Just what?”

Isabelle took a deep breath and sighed. “If I tell you, you have to promise not to interfere.” She saw a wary look pass over his face. “Promise me, Arthur.” 

When he nodded, she sat back down with a painful groan. He sat carefully next to her andwrapped an arm around her shoulder, allowing her to tuck into his side comfortably. It gave her the opportunity to avoid his eyes as she explained herself.

“I owe Elise a debt. Right after I moved to Los Angeles, I met Elise in the coffee shop I was working in and she offered me a job as a waitress at L’Apogée. I guess she thought I had a look that fit the club. It paid a lot more than what I was making, so I accepted. 

“A few months into working there, I was in an accident with another girl that worked in the club. A drunk driver T-boned us at an intersection running a red light. Elaine, the girl I was with, died, and I was in really bad shape. I didn’t have insurance, or any money to pay for treatment. Elise heard what happened and showed up, offering to pay for all of my medical bills if I agreed to work for her servicing clients for reservations. I knew what that meant at the time, but I didn’t have any choice. I didn’t have the money to pay for my medical expenses, and I wasn’t about to go back home and ask my father for help. So I said yes. She paid off my bills, and I agreed to pay her back with interest. I can’t leave L’Apogée until I do. I almost have enough. But Elise finds ways to tack on to my debt. Penalties, expenses, things like that. She won’t let me go.” 

Isabelle took another deep breath after her confession, listening for any type of reaction from Arthur above her, though there was none. She sat up to look him in the eye and touched a hand to the side of his face. “Please say something.”

Arthur shook his head, resting his hand over hers. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped you.” 

“I don’t want to be in debt to you too. This is my problem, I need to fix it. But I should be free soon. As soon as I pay off my debt to Elise, I’m quitting. I have enough saved up to get my own apartment, and hopefully I can find a job to help with expenses. Maybe waitressing again.” Isabelle ran a hand through her hair. “But I don’t want to keep working for Elise, living like this, under constant watch. I want to be my own person again. I want to see you, on my own terms. Where you don’t have to pay just so we can be together.”

“It’d be easier on my wallet.” Arthur managed to joke. Isabelle laughed quietly and rested her head on his shoulder again. “How much do you owe?”

“I know you, so I’m not telling you.”

“Just curious.” 

“I’m sure you are.” Isabelle closed her eyes. “You still have to leave. Clara will be back soon.”

“Can’t I just stay in your room?”

“As tempting as having you in my bed is, no. Once I’m back to work, I’ll see you there.” Isabelle opened her eyes when Arthur placed a kiss on her head and stood. She watched as he reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a business card to hold out to her. She took it carefully and studied it. Arthur had given her his contact information before, but she never kept it. What was the point if she was never able to speak to him outside of the club?

“If anything goes further south, just call me.” He bent down and placed a gentle kiss to the corner of her mouth, careful not to touch the split in her lip. With that, he left the apartment, closing the door quietly behind him. 

Isabelle felt a great weight had been lifted on her chest after finally telling someone outside of the club about her predicament, especially when that someone was Arthur.She knew even if everything went tits-up, he would still be there for her. She wondered if he knew just how much she loved him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter just flew out of me. I hope you all like it. And the address I mention in the chapter is an actual apartment for sale and my inspiration for what Isabelle and Clara's apartment looks like. If you want to take a look, just google it.   
> Thank you all so much for reading! Until next time~


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